Edwin Arlington Robinson (1869–1935). Collected Poems. 1921.
I. The Man Against the Sky4. Cassandra
I
What word have I for children here?
Your Dollar is your only Word,
The wrath of it your only fear.
To make you see, but you are blind;
You cannot leave it long enough
To look before you or behind.
You laugh and say that you know best;
But what it is you know, you keep
As dark as ingots in a chest.
O leave us now, and let us grow.’—
Not asking how much more of this
Will Time endure or Fate bestow.
Have made your peril of your pride,
Think you that you are to go on
Forever pampered and untried?
What bivouac of the marching stars,
Has given the sign for you to see
Millenniums and last great wars?
Of all the world has ever known,
Or ever been, has made itself
So plain to you, and you alone?
A Trinity that even you
Rate higher than you rate yourselves;
It pays, it flatters, and it’s new.
Be what your Eagle eats and drinks,
You’ll praise him for the best of birds,
Not knowing what the Eagle thinks.
You see not upon what you tread;
You have the ages for your guide,
But not the wisdom to be led.
The merciless old verities?
And are you never to have eyes
To see the world for what it is?
With all you are?”—No other word
We caught, but with a laughing crowd
Moved on. None heeded, and few heard.